Walking Back
by ice blue1
Summary: Hermione realizes her feelings for Ron, but not before it's too late. They drift apart after graduation and she tries to forget, but can she really do that? And Ginny has a secret... R/H, possible future H/...G? Pls review!
1. Of Graduating...

Disclaimer:I dreamt last night that I was J.K. Rowling and owned Harry Potter and everything connected to it. However, I woke up this morning and realized that it had all been a dream, and suddenly, I went from being the happiest person in the world back to the depressed, angsty teenager that I am. 

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WALKING BACK

By ice blue

Chapter I: Graduation

The Great Hall was silent. It was the Commencement ceremony of the seventh years, and Dumbledore had just announced a speech to be given by the top student of the year and head girl, Hermione Granger.

Hermione stepped up to the podium and took a deep breath. She had stayed up really late the previous night trying to think of the right things to say.

"Seven years. I've spent seven years in this school, yet it seems like only yesterday that I came here for the first time on the Hogwarts Express. I remember my first few months here very clearly: nobody liked me much then. I had huge hair and an even huger personality defect. I thought I was the best thing to happen to Hogwarts when, in fact, Hogwarts was the best thing that happened to me. 

"The past seven years have been… well, much better than I ever hoped for. As most of you know, I am Muggle-born, and when I got that letter saying I had been accepted into Hogwarts, well- a whole world just opened up to me. Little did I imagine when I was a kid that someday I would be turning buttons into beetles and flying on a broom! Not that I was ever really good at that.

"I learned loads of things from my teachers. I appreciate now, although I didn't then, all the papers, assignments and lectures we all had to endure. I've also had experiences here, good and bad, which I wouldn't forget for anything. There has been joy and sorrow, excitement and fear.

"But more important than all the academics are my friends. My friends, who have always been there for me. Friends with whom I've shared so much…and created bonds with which cannot be broken by death or dark lords. Friends who'd give up their lives for me, and for whom I know I'd give up my life for.

"These are the blessings that Hogwarts have left me. Although it is with sadness that I leave this school, I know that it has given me the most precious gift I'll ever get. I'm about to begin a new life, and all that I've learned here will certainly help me out there.

"This is our last time to walk the halls of this beloved castle as Hogwarts students. Tomorrow we board the Hogwarts Express, and head towards the future. We don't know what will happen to us. Some of us may come back here to teach, or visit, and some of us might never see Hogwarts again. But we can hope that the ties we have formed among us stay strong throughout our lives, and the memory of Hogwarts forever remains undimmed in our hearts."

She stopped speaking and stepped back from the podium, not even hearing the applause that filled the Great Hall. Instead she looked over at the Students seated at the four house tables: people she had come to know over the years. Their faces all seemed familiar and dear somehow, and she looked at them, trying to drink in the way they looked just then, and keep the image in her mind forever.

At the Slytherin table Draco Malfoy scowled up at her, as he always did, but did she sense sadness in that scowl? He too had shared in many of their adventures, and, though conflicting history had preventing them from getting close to each other, but she felt that, if it were possible, they could've been friends.

Her own table, the Gryffindor table, was noisy and happy as usual, but the seventh years were slightly subdued, as if depressed by the thought that this was their last feast in the Great Hall. Lavender and Parvati had tears in their eyes, and Seamus and Dean were obviously trying to keep their own down. Neville was just staring into his bowl, seemingly unaware of the fact that tears were streaming down his cheeks. 

Ginny was talking with Colin Creevey. Hermione caught the clear tinkle of her laughter over the din in the hall. _Ginny's lucky she's only in sixth year, _she thought. _She'll be coming back in September. But us… Harry, Ron and I…_

As if catching her thought Harry caught her eye and smiled. He wasn't crying, but his green eyes shone strangely bright that night. Harry Potter, the Boy who Lived… when Hermione had read his life story, back before coming to Hogwarts, little had she known that soon he would be one of her best friends in the whole world. Someone so great, so famous… even when they had first met she had been awed by him. But after seven years spent together, she had come to realize that beyond all that fame was a normal boy, craving a normal life. Unfortunately his past hadn't exactly permitted that.

Harry was probably the single person in the entire world to whom she could tell everything. All her problems, fears, complaints- she could tell him. It was to him to whom she had run when she failed her first exam back in fifth year. But although everyone said they were perfect for each other- the most famous wizard and the smartest witch in their year- Hermione had never really felt that way about him, and she knew that, though he loved her, he didn't feel that way about her either.

__

But Ron, on the other hand…

Where had that thought come from?

Hermione looked at Ron, who was seated beside Harry. He was talking to Seamus and Chris, a sixth-year boy. His red hair was messy and tousled, and suddenly she felt an irresistible urge to run her hands through that hair. She shook herself. She was over Ron. 

There was a time, in their fourth or fifth year, when she had thought that Ron liked her. As in, _like _liked her. And at the time she found herself thinking that she liked him too. She thought she saw all the signs- his jealousy over Viktor Krum, the lengths of detentions he had had to endure whenever he got into a violent fight with Malfoy for calling Hermione a Mudblood. She thought, too, that he had been on the verge of telling her sometimes. _But I guess I was wrong, _she had thought. In time, she had moved on. She treated that phase as just that- a passing phase. 

__

But was it really?

She remembered times, after she had decided she was 'over' it, when she found herself wishing, again, that she could know what Ron _really _thought about her. She remembered dreams she had had. Dreams that she didn't ask for but just came in the night and surprised her. There were certain things about him- his smile, his freckles- that sometimes during the holidays or late at night, she just _wanted _to see for no reason at all. And from their years in Hogwarts she remembered numerous moments which would have required a long, late-night conversation with Harry to fix, but a single sentence from Ron could make it all better.

__

I still love him.

She had never known that she loved him. But at that moment she knew, beyond a doubt, that she loved him. And tomorrow they would have to say goodbye…

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Hermione alighted from the Hogwarts Express at King's Cross station for the last time.

_The last time ever, _she thought, depressed. It all seemed so final.

With a whistle the train pulled away, on its way back to Hogsmeade, leaving Hermione, Harry and Ron standing with all their baggage, surrounded by the rest of the Hogwarts population.

The younger students were all joyfully saying their goodbyes, greeting their families. There were shouts of "Be sure to visit me!" and "See you next year!" They drove away with the secure knowledge that they would be seeing each other again next school year.

The older students were saying longer, more tearful farewells. Unlike the younger ones, they didn't know where the coming September would find them.

"Well," Harry said. Hermione looked at him. Ron was playing with a stone with his foot. He seemed absorbed in it.

"Well… I guess I'll see you two around. We should… we should make plans."

"Yes!" Hermione chimed in. "Just because we're not in school anymore doesn't mean we have to drift apart! We could still see each other every day if we tried."

Ron spoke for the first time. "It's not that easy, Hermione. _You're _the one who's going to Greece."

Hermione started. How had she forgotten about Greece?

"Well, I'll come back for vacations and stuff. And it's not a permanent thing. I could move back, you know. Why don't we get together this week? Before I leave and before Harry goes on that America thing with Sirius."

"Can't," Ron said. "Mum and Dad have this trip thing planned- to Egypt. We're going to visit Bill there. Can't make it any later this summer, so we leave tomorrow."

Hermione's heart dropped. She hadn't realized that they'd all take off in different directions as they did every summer, except this time, there'd be no more September to see each other again. And they couldn't exactly visit each other much this summer, because they'd all be busy with their new lives…

"You remember how to use a telephone, Ron? Well, I'll just give you a ring soon. You too, Hermione." Absorbed in her thoughts, Hermione hadn't realized that Harry had picked up his bags. "You're leaving?" She asked numbly. He nodded.

"Yup. Sirius is here to pick me up. He's got my new, uh…_car _waiting. He insisted on giving me one as a graduation present…Well, bye then." 

The three of them stood awkwardly for a minute, then Hermione threw her arms around Harry. She held him tightly, her tears falling unto his jacket, until she finally let go.

"Sorry about the jacket, Harry," she said, a trifle embarrassed.

"Don't worry about it, Herm," he assured her. He looked at Ron, and, quite shockingly, gave him a brief hug, slapping him on the back. "See ya, Ron."

Ron mumbled something, and Harry began to walk away. Hermione watched him until he was just a speck in the distance.

She turned her eyes to Ron. He was still looking down.

"I guess this is goodbye, Ron… for now."

"Yeah," he said. He finally looked up, straight into her eyes. She was surprised to see tears in his blue eyes, and felt a sudden rush of tenderness.

"I'm sure we can find a way to see each other again. Maybe when you get back, and Harry's back from America, you can owl me and I'll catch a trip home… or we can all arrange to meet up in some exotic, foreign land…"

She gave a shrill laugh.

"I'm being silly, aren't I?"

Ron shook his head. He looked at her for a long time, a strange look in his eyes.

"I'll miss you, 'Mione," he finally said.

That was all she needed. The floodgates on her eyes were opened, and her tears came quickly and unstoppingly. She closed her eyes, trying to squeeze out all her scared thoughts. She stood there for a while, then suddenly felt a pair of strong arms around her.

"It's okay, 'Mione, it's okay," he said softly. She could feel his voice in her hair. He continued to reassure her, running his hand up and down her back. They just stood there, supporting each other, trying to draw the strength to face the future.

Finally they stepped apart. Her face was filled with tears, but then again so was his.

In the background she could hear her mum's voice calling to her, but right now all her attention was focused on Ron.

She was absolutely sure now of how she felt. She was also sure he felt it too. She had felt this way for years- for almost as long as she had known him, she thought. Was this it? Was she just going to walk away from this, from all that the seven years spent together had built up for them? Was he?

"I think I see my dad, and Fred and George," he said, breaking into her thoughts. "I've got to go. I'll keep in touch. Take care, 'Mione," in a single quick move, he bent down and gave her a kiss on the lips. In an instant it was over and she was looking at his retreating back.

__

I guess he is.

Sill in a daze, Hermione picked up her bag and turned her back to his, wondering for all she was worth why she was walking away.

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A/N:If you've had the patience to read this through till the end, (it's long for a chapter) I thank you! It's very much appreciated, and reviews will be even more appreciated. If you've got any comments about my work, then please, please _do _review, but I warn you that if you flame me, I'm not going to take any notice of it, so there's really no point. And if I get feedback I'll continue the story (with shorter chapters, I promise!) I've sort of got a hazy idea already of what's going to happen. Let me know if you have any comments or suggestions or anything! Feel free to email them to me. Okay, so I've taken up so much space with my weird rambling. I'll go now. G'night! 


	2. A Chance Meeting and Letters

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I was having a bad day, but when I saw that I had twenty reviews everything just brightened up again. THANK YOU!!! You made my day. I've got a longer author's note down there, and if you want to hear me thanking you again and again and again, then read it. I say a load of other crap too. So here's the next chapter… This takes place five years after Graduation.

Chapter 2: A Chance Meeting and Letters

Hermione Granger had not left Greece in five years. She had studied at Poseidon's Wizard Academy on the island of Ithaca for four years, majoring in Magical Research, and after her graduation moved to Athens and got a job as a researcher for the Library of Athena, the largest wizard library in Greece.

She lived a pretty reclusive life, going straight home after work instead of socializing with her young colleagues. She lived alone with her cat, Crookshanks, in a small studio, where she spent almost all her time.

She had enjoyed her studies immensely. The terrain of the mountainous island in Western Greece made it hard for Muggles to live in, thus Muggle communities were few and far between, providing the freedom and solitude that a Wizarding Academy needed. It was also very beautiful on the island, and, with the certain "advantages" wizards had, the students of Poseidon's Wizard Academy had led a very comfortable life.

After graduation Hermione had decided not to return to England. She was used to leading a full and busy life, and she enjoyed the change of pace here. In Greece things were slower, less hurried. There was time to reflect on life and enjoy the beauty of nature all around her. She enjoyed working among books, which she loved, then coming home to just sit on the small balcony of her studio, while night came over Athens. She hadn't gone on a vacation in months.

That was why it was strange that she was now seated on a yacht in the middle of the Caribbean Sea.

She had no idea why she had taken this cruise. She had come home one day to see a magazine lying on her usually impeccable floor, (she was a neat freak) opened to a page advertising a Caribbean Cruise. She didn't close the magazine at once and put it back on the rack, as she normally would've done. Instead she picked it up and stared at the ad, not conscious of the time, until she was startled out of her reverie by Crookshanks, who was purring for food. She shook herself for spacing out, and put the magazine away.

Then she did an even stranger thing. She called the travel agency.

That was the reason she was now sitting on a deck chair in a new one-piece bathing suit, soaking in the rays of the sun and sipping a Pina Colada.

For the tenth time today she asked herself why she was here.

For the tenth time today she had no answer.

Well, it was fun, strange as it was. She hadn't been out of Greece in so long, and she hadn't been in the Caribbean, _ever, _so it was a new experience for her. And she had always been open to new experiences. Shaking her head in amusement, she took a book out of the large beach bag on the floor beside her chair. _Cruises For Busy Witches. _She didn't usually read things like that, but she figured, since she was going on the cruise, why not? She opened the book, and was beginning to read it, when she was startled to feel a cold splash of liquid hit her legs.

"Oh, I am so, so sorry!" a high-pitched voice exclaimed.

She looked up and gave a double take.

Standing over her was a slim young woman wearing a bikini top and a sarong, with a large camera slung over one shoulder and a tote bag over the other. Her fiery red hair was pinned up on top of her head, and she was apologising profusely to Hermione. Apparently she had spilled her drink in a sudden lurch of the yacht. She pulled some paper towels out of her bag and offered them to Hermione.

Hermione, however, couldn't hear her. She was staring into the woman's face.

_"Ginny Weasley?"_

The young woman looked at her in surprise, and then lifted her sunglasses. "Hermione!"

Hermione grinned. "How's it been, Ginny?"

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The two girls sat in Hermione's cabin late that night, catching up on five years' worth of news.

"So you're a photojournalist, Gin? Wow- never knew you were interested in photography."

"Yeah. I wasn't really until my seventeenth birthday. I got a camera from mum and dad and- _wham- _here I am. What about you, Hermione? You haven't exactly kept us updated on your life since you left."

Hermione smiled sheepishly. She knew she had hardly written her friends, much less visited.

"It was hard settling in, at first. And then I was studying, too. I had a pretty tight schedule."

She didn't tell Ginny the real reason why she hadn't written. How could she even begin to explain?

"You could've written sometimes! We've all been crazy wondering what happened to you. Especially Ron."

_Ron! _Hermione felt her lips form the question she'd been dying to ask all night.

"How _is _Ron?"

"Well, you know Ron… he's doing okay, I guess. He has a _job _now. And you'd never believe it! After Hogwarts he went to the Magical _Military _Academy, and now he's, like, a _soldier. _Imagine Ron! A soldier!"

Hermione couldn't imagine it.

"And he's not _just _a soldier, Herm. He's… should I really tell you this?"

"I'm his best friend, Gin." 

"Okay…well, he got drafted into the Ministry's secret service. He's like some kind of James Bond Auror now."

Hermione just had to laugh. "Really! Ron?!"

"Well, he's nowhere near as glamourous or as hot as James Bond is. And he has a _lot _less luck with the ladies."

Hermione was still laughing. "But _Ron? _Of all people!"

"Yeah." Ginny began to giggle too. "But he's on leave right now. A very rare leave. He's milking it for all he's worth with…"

"With who?"

"Well, you know. Harry and stuff. And some of his friends from the service."

"So Harry and Ron are still close?"

"Oh, yeah! Though they don't see each other that often. They talk a lot. They've kept in touch."

Hermione detected something slightly accusatory in Ginny's tone. 

"I'm sorry I didn't write, Gin. You and Ron… and Harry too. I wanted to."

"Then why, Herm? Why didn't you write?"

Hermione stared straight ahead. _I didn't write because I couldn't. Because it was too painful to remember you and Harry and Ron knowing how long it would be before I saw you again. Because I wanted to forget everything that happened and everything I felt in Hogwarts. Because I was trying to walk away and I know a single letter would cause me to come running back. Because I'm in love with your brother but he doesn't love me back._

"I'm sorry, Gin… I didn't write because I didn't have the time."

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Later, when Ginny had left, Hermione sat on her bed alone. Her alarm clock read 12:30, but she wasn't that sleepy. In fact, she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep even if she tried to. Why hadn't she written? She had written to Harry a few times… replies to letters he sent. But after a while even that got too painful.

Giving up, she pulled her suitcase out from under her bed and, rummaging through it, took out a red wooden box. Inside were a dozen envelopes, all preserved with care, bearing the same address in the same untidy scrawl.

_Ron's letters._

Her heart had leapt at the first letter that had arrived during her third week in Greece. She had read it in the dormitory at Poseidon's, late in the evening, when all her roommates were at a party. After that she had taken a walk by the beach and sat in the sand, the waves lapping at her feet, as she read it over and over again.

The letter had been so _Ron. _It was full of news about Egypt, and what he and his family were doing there. He told her of how he wished he could take her there, and show her the pyramids, the Sphinx, and all the other ancient sights. The letter had been cheery, bursting with jokes and stories, exactly how a friend would write.

_Only a friend._

The next night Hermione had sat in her dorm, trying to write a reply, but her tears kept falling onto the page. She couldn't think of anything to tell him. She tried to write as he had, about how her life was going here in Greece, but she couldn't put words to it. Frustrated, she had given up.

Letters came from him over the next six months, but Hermione never opened them. She couldn't bear the thought of reading another account of his life, about how happy he was and how well he was doing without her. But she had kept the letters. Every single one. She put them all in her red box. Ron had actually given her that box. He had made it himself one summer, entirely in the Muggle way. It was quite sloppily made, but the work he had put into it made it very precious to her.

Sitting here now, Hermione looked at the letters again. She hadn't opened the box in years, since she had put the last letter in. But she carried it around with her wherever she went, which wasn't really a lot of places. Now she picked up the letters, one by one, and laid them on her bed.

She couldn't keep the past behind her anymore. Not when it had come up to her so suddenly and hit her in the face. She thought she had forgotten Ron, but she hadn't…the memory of him had just been there in her head, biding its time, until now. Now she just had to know what was in those letters.

She grabbed the first letter and read it. It was the only one she had already read. Quickly she read it, absorbing every little detail. After that she ripped open the next, then the next, her eyes hungrily eating up the pages. Ron's life for the six months after they had parted opened up before her.

He had come home from Egypt absolutely sure of what he wanted to do with his life. The very next day, he applied to a Military Academy, and got accepted. In the Academy life was hard, but he felt it was right for him. In two weeks it would be their Christmas break, and did Hermione want to meet up in some exotic land as she had suggested the last day they were together? Harry was game, and so was Ron.

Her eyes glistening, Hermione put down the second to the last letter. Only one left. She was exhausted yet exhilarated, and she couldn't stop now. She picked up the last letter.

It had been written on December 31st of the year they had graduated. It was short, taking up only a single sheet of parchment.

_Dear Hermione,_

I've sent you so many letters, yet I never received a reply. The first few times I tried to convince myself that it was just some weird fluke, that for some reason you weren't getting any of my letters. I even checked to see if I got the correct address. I did.

I can't believe that anymore. I don't think I ever did. I asked Harry about it, and he said that you were writing to him. Apparently I've done something to make you mad, because why else wouldn't you reply to my letters? I tried to rack my brains for anything that I could have done, but I came up with nothing. Maybe I offended you in a letter I sent. If I did, please tell me, Hermione. You don't know how important it is to me.

There's one last thing I have to tell you. There have been countless times before that I've wanted to tell you this, but I never did have the guts to. I was afraid to get hurt, but most of all I was afraid to hurt you. I hoped, and thought, that you felt the same way, but now I don't know. Your silence makes me think that you don't really care as much as I thought you did, as much as I wanted you to.

I guess what I want to say, 'Mione, is I love you. I think I always have. I didn't realize until we were in the fifth or sixth year, but I know I've loved you since the time Harry and I saved you from that troll in the bathrooms in first year, and you took all the blame.

And I always hoped you loved me back.

Haha. I've just bared my soul to you on paper. Suddenly I want to erase all that I've written, scared that you might laugh at me or, worse, run shrieking away in horror. But I won't erase it, 'Mione. I won't because I know that if I don't send this now, I'll never send it. And I won't because I know every word I've written is true.

If you don't reply I guess it means that all I've said doesn't mean anything to you. That you don't feel the way I do. If you don't reply I'll know It's time for me to move on, though I doubt I can ever do that. Please do reply, Hermione. Please, please, please….

Ron

Hermione fell back onto her bed and lay there until the tears came, and cried way into the early morning hours, until, exhausted, she finally fell asleep.

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A/N: Okay, I hope that didn't disappoint you that much. And I haven't exactly kept my promise to write shorter chapters… I don't think I can do that! So I won't make any more promises. Except to say that I promise I will continue this story. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I just left them hanging like that! And I promise that soon they'll actually see each other again. 

Should I do Ron's POV? Coz so far it's just been Hermione. What do you think? Am I even capable of doing that? =) Tell me! Review! =) I'm absolutely sure I'll continue this, but whether or not I'll post it will depend on the reviews. If people like my story and give me feedback, then I'll put it up. Please…I love reviews…they make me feel…happy. You cannot imagine how happy I was when I saw the twenty reviews. That was WAY more than I expected! The best I hoped for was three or four in the first week, but you guys gave me 20 in the first two days! I LOVE you guys! I am unimaginably flattered. Thanks to all of you who reviewed! I hope I didn't disappoint you. Please review again! =)

Sorry if it's extremely…sappy. You know, full of soul-searching, sappy stuff. I am a self-confessed sap. I can only write in that way. If you read my other stuff it's all angsty, unrequited love crap. For the first time I'm gonna try to make this end happily… _maybe_. Or maybe I'll make a super duper angst-ridden, cry-your-heart-out ending. =) OR MAYBE I'll make her realize that she's actually in love with _Harry _and not Ron.

No, of course I wouldn't do that. Ron and Hermione are meant to be together. Don't you think so? Don't you think _Rowling _thinks so? =)


	3. On a Tropical Island

Chapter 3: On a Tropical Island

The sun was setting over the Caribbean Sea, filling the sky with deep hues of red and purple. The ocean was in a playful mood, tossing the pristine white yacht up and down on its sparkling blue-green waves.

From the railing of the yacht Hermione and Ginny could see the island of San Salvador slowly coming into view.

"Oh my God, Hermione, it's beautiful!" Ginny exclaimed. She took out her camera and began snapping photos of the tropical paradise.

Hermione was silent, but she agreed. The island, with its smooth beaches and unexplored tropical forests, looked like a scene straight out of a movie, a land left over from before human civilization came and exploited nature's beauty. It looked so romantic amidst the darkening sky.

Hermione felt a slight tugging in her heart. She chuckled dryly. _Yes, _she thought. _The ultimate island getaway._

"I can't wait to write my story on this trip!" Ginny said. "Why, from the looks of that island, it could be the scene of some great romance. I wouldn't be surprised if one of us finds love there!"

Hermione laughed. They had joked that morning, over breakfast, about the lack of romance in both their lives.

"I doubt there are any eligible males there, Gin. Actually, I doubt that there are any people there at all. It looks so unspoiled!"

"Actually, it's one of the more popular islands of the Bahamas, Herm. The tourist industry here is skyrocketing. I thought you, of all people, would know that. I'm sure you read a ton of literature on these islands before coming here."

Hermione grinned sheepishly. "Guilty," she admitted. "It's just that it looks so… pure. As if nature ruled it, not human beings. I don't think it's changed at all since Christopher Columbus set foot on it in 1492, on his historic voyage. Though there are some studies that say he landed on Samana Cay and not here…"

Ginny laughed. "Now you're beginning to sound like a muggle history book, Herm. But Christopher Columbus? That's interesting. I could use that for my article. What else do you know?"

"I read that Columbus wrote in his journal that _' The beauty of these islands surpasses that of any other and as much as the day surpasses the night in splendour…' "_

She looked back at the picturesque island looming larger on the horizon. They were quite near it now. She could see several tropical birds flying high above the trees of the island.

"And I rather think he's right."

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The two girls settled into their rooms on the second storey of the waterfront resort. The cruise director had booked a hotel which had a lovely view of the ocean, and Hermione and Ginny had requested adjoining front rooms. 

"You ready to explore this island, Herm?" Ginny asked, wandering into Hermione's room. She carried her camera, as always, and her red curls were pinned up away from her face.

"In a minute." Hermione was just finishing tucking her clothes into drawers. She zipped up her empty suitcase and shoved it under the bed. She stood up and brushed some imaginary dust off her blouse. "I'm ready now!" she declared.

Ginny was shaking her head in amazement. "I never got how you could do that, Hermione. I was too excited to even unpack! I just left my bags where the porter put them and freshened up a bit. I wish I could be as tidy as you are."

"It's just habit, I guess," Hermione replied. "I can't function in a messy environment."

Ginny laughed. "Said like a true textbook. Come on, let's go!"

"Let me just wash my hands," Hermione said, going into the little bathroom.

Ginny sat on Hermione's bed and looked around. She marveled at how neat her friend could be. She could see Hermione's bottles of perfume, lined up neatly on top of the dresser, beside her lipstick and hairbrush. The covers were still neat.

Ginny chuckled to herself. Her own bed was a mess, due to the fact that, as soon as the door of her room was closed and she was alone, she had jumped onto her bed, to test the "softness" of the pillows. As often as she travelled, she still did that in every hotel.

In fact, nothing looked out of place in Hermione's room… except for that small red box on the window seat. Curious, Ginny walked over to the seat. The box was wooden, and painted red, and had a small gold padlock on the opening. It wasn't very well made, it was quite sloppily painted, and Ginny had never seen it before. She held it up to her ear and shook it.

Hermione came out of the bathroom. "Come on, Gin…" she trailed off when she saw what her friend was holding. 

"What's this, Herm?" Ginny asked.

Hermione looked flustered. Her hands went nervously to her hair. "Oh, that's…that's nothing, Gin. Just some odds and ends I keep around." She took the box from Ginny and held it for a while. Ginny stared at her curiously, then suddenly let out an exclamation.

"Oh! I forgot to bring extra film! Let me just go get it, Hermione." She hurried to her room through the connecting door.

When Ginny was gone, Hermione carefully tucked the box into her last drawer, under her sweatshirts. (Sweatshirts on a Caribbean Cruise? What _had _been in her head while she was packing?) By the time Ginny returned, she was standing, empty-handed, all ready to go.

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The beach was beautiful by night. Although it was dangerous to swim, as the tide was high, Hermione and Ginny walked barefoot along the shore, letting the soft sand sink between their toes, and occasionally walking in the ankle-deep water. On one side was the ocean, on the other they could see exotic trees, and from further inland they heard sounds of folk music playing.

"This place is so magical…" Hermione heard Ginny whisper to herself. She glanced over at her friend, and was surprised at what she saw. In Ginny's eyes was a deep sorrow, as if the beauty of the island brought back some bittersweet memory. Hermione wondered at it. Again she was reminded of the fact that she hadn't seen her friend in five years. _So many things could have happened in that time, _she thought, startled. _Not only with Ginny, but with Ron and Harry and everyone…and I don't know anything about them…_

She looked again at Ginny, who was staring at the ocean, her mind far off. Hermione had no idea whatsoever what she was thinking about. A thought echoed in her mind. 

__

I don't know her at all.

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After eating a delicious seafood supper at the hotel restaurant, Hermione insisted on seeing Ginny's leatherbound photo album, full of photographs she had taken, despite her protests that they weren't really that good. "Most of these are amateurish," Ginny had said. But in the end she gave in, and let Hermione see the photos while she showered. Hermione suspected that she was actually rather proud of her work.

Hermione turned the album to the first page. Ginny had said that she had many more albums at home, but she took this particular one everywhere she went, because the photos in it were those dear to her. She saw now why.

The first page displayed a large color print of a familiar-looking house in the countryside. The Burrow. In the photo she could see the grass in the yard swaying, and the small gate swinging in the wind. The clouds above the house drifted peacefully, and the sun shone bright, reflecting light off the windows. Memories suddenly flooded her brain, memories of summers spent at The Burrow. Although she had grown up in the Muggle world, it was at the Burrow, in the company of the entire Weasley family and, more often than not, Harry, that she had experienced many of her "firsts." Her first broom fall (the first of many), which happened in the middle of a rowdy Quidditch game which the Weasleys insisted she join, her first Magical cooking lesson, courtesy of Mrs. Weasley, her first encounter with a garden gnome. She smiled at the memories, still gazing at the photo. The Burrow hadn't changed.

On the next page was a picture of the entire Weasley brood. In five years, there had been ten additions to the family: four grown witches and six small redheads. Apparently the picture had been taken in the wintertime, out in the backyard. Molly and Arthur sat on chairs in the middle of the picture. They looked the same, save Arthur had a few more gray hairs and a slightly larger belly. In his arms was a tiny infant, who was giggling and playing with his grandfather's mustache. Fred and George, still looking extremely identical, each carried a curly-haired toddler, another pair of twins. Beside George, a young woman with curly brown hair, apparently their mother, watched them anxiously. Bill had his arm around a gorgeous blond woman, who was holding the hand of a delicate young girl, who, at around five years old, was apparently the oldest third-generation Weasley. Percy and his wife, whom Hermione recognised to be Penelope, his longtime girlfriend, each held a child and, from the looks on their faces, were also the parents of the baby in Mr. Weasley's arms. Charlie and his wife had no children yet, but from the look of his wife's dress robes, were expecting one very soon. Hermione smiled at the picture, and most of them waved at her, except those who had their hands full. 

Then she saw Ron. At first he was half-hidden behind Percy, but then he stepped out and looked directly at the camera. Seeing him there, standing behind his father, she was overcome with memories. Most of them were happy, but they filled her with sadness all the same. He looked slightly different…his hair was darker and a tad longer than when they had last seen each other. His dress robes were brand new, and, from the looks of them, of high-quality. He also seemed to hold himself more confidently. But his face, his eyes and his smile, which looked as if he had not a care in the world, were the same as ever. It was Ron, and Hermione's heart ached at the thought that she had caused that smile to waver and those eyes to dim when, five years ago, she had kept silent when a word from her could have gotten them what he had wanted… what they both had wanted.

Regret and sorrow filled her again, and she felt tears sting her eyes. From the bathroom she heard the shower go off. Soon Ginny would come out, and Hermione couldn't let her see her in this state. She shut the album quickly- she couldn't look any more. Blindly she placed it atop Ginny's dresser and made her way to the door, thinking only of how she had to get out of there before Ginny saw her crying.

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Hermione awoke the next morning to the fresh scent of the ocean. Going out on the balcony, she saw the sparkling blue-green ocean and felt a cool breeze on her face. She closed her eyes and breathed in the air. Yes, whatever sadness she had felt the previous night, it was definitely gone now. She knocked on the connecting door between her room and Ginny's.

"Are you up, Gin? Let's go down to the beach. It looks beautiful from the balcony."

She was answered with a groan. Apparently Ginny hadn't been up, and had been awakened by Hermione's call.

"Come on, Gin, we'd better hit the beach before the crowds come… you'll get the best photos that way."

Hermione heard a lot of movement from behind the door, accompanied by a mumbled, "Okay then," and smiled to herself. She may have to get to know Ginny all over again but one thing she had learned: Ginny's photography was her weak spot. 

It was quite early, so the lobby, which was actually a small garden with a few wooden chairs and a lot of tropical plants, was nearly empty. Several groups of tourists, some of their fellow cruise-goers, and some strangers, were seated on the chairs. Hermione saw Ginny's eyes widen as they walked in.

Puzzled, she followed her friend's gaze, and gasped in shock. Coming out from the bathrooms was a tall, handsome young man, dressed to perfection in blue shorts and a Bohemian shirt, his messy black hair falling over his eyes which, even across the room, Hermione could tell were a brilliant emerald green. 

__

"What's Harry doing here?" Hermione heard Ginny whisper in astonishment.

Still in shock, Hermione watched as someone came out of the room after Harry. He was a few inches taller, and had a deep tan. He wore khaki pants and a loose navy blue "I-love-the-Caribbean" t-shirt. He turned and said something to Harry, and they both laughed. From afar Hermione couldn't make out his features, but his red hair was unmistakable. Without a word to Ginny, she turned and fled.

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A/N: Yes, that chapter sucked. I'm sorry, I haven't really been… "inspired" lately, and I sprained my finger, =( so I can't type that well. It's hard to think of the right things to say when your hand is in agony. So anyway, please keep reviewing! Thank you so much for all the reviews you've given me so far. I get a rush when I read the reviews and story ideas just come pouring into my head. =) To those of you who asked me to email you when I post, especially the previous chapter, I'm sorry I wasn't able to. There's something weird going on with my email account. 

SMILE!!! 


	4. Old Friends Reunited

A/N: I've edited this, _very slightly, _because I posted it in _quite _a hurry last time. And I wrote a way-too-long, way-too-weird, author's note. I _do _have some things to say, though, so I've put it all at the bottom. Here's the chapter…

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Chapter 4: Old Friends Reunited

Harry spotted Ginny standing across the lobby. From the look on her face, she'd seen them too. He smiled to himself at her open-mouthed amazement.

"Come on, Ron," he said to his red-haired companion, who was staring into what looked like an ordinary wrist-watch, seemingly engrossed. 

"Ron!" Harry repeated.

"Sorry." Ron smiled sheepishly. "I can't seem to remember that I'm on leave. Tuning into this thing's become a bloody habit."

"Ron, Ron. The Service is going to have to pay for ruining your social life. But wait- they're contacting you _here? _I thought they promised you at least a month of peace and quiet!"

"They aren't contacting me, exactly…"

"So what is it then?" Harry peered into Ron's 'watch.' A grin spread over his face as understanding dawned over what he saw.

__

"Oh," he said with a meaningful look at Ron. "No need to keep _that _a secret from me, you git. But seriously, Ron, I don't think a month would kill you."

"Not a month. I'm going back in a week."

  
Harry gave Ron a tolerant, whatever-you-say smile. Then he remembered Ginny.

"Oh, right, I found Ginny. You and your obsession with the service made me forget about it… I think she saw us too. Let's go over there."

"You don't have to go over there, Harry, because I'm right here," a new voice cut in. Ginny was standing in front of them, hands on her hips, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "What are you two doing here? I thought you were in Switzerland!"

"It's nice to see you too, Gin," Ron teased. "Come on…aren't you glad to see us?"

"Really, Ron." She gave him a withered smile, and he crushed her in a tight hug. They were both laughing when he pulled away.

"Actually, Gin, mum told me to follow you here. She thinks you're much too young to be trotting about the globe all on your own."

Ginny pouted. "I'm twenty-one! That's only a year younger than you are!" She turned to Harry. "Tell me why you're _really _here."

Ron cut in again before Harry could answer.

"You know we couldn't _bear_ to spend the summer freezing our arses off in Switzerland, after freezing 'em off in Britain all year. Besides, we were suddenly possessed by an overwhelming urge to see you. So here we are!"

Ginny raised an eyebrow at her brother. "Really? I'm honoured, brother dear," she said sarcastically. 

"Actually, we decided to pounce on the fact that the service _actually gave Ron a leave, _and a summer one at that. We wanted to check out a beach- we were going to ask you, but you'd already left. But your mum _did _tell us you were going to be here, and she _did _suggest that she'd feel safer if we were with you…" Harry said.

Ginny made an irritated noise. "I can take care of myself! Sometimes I think mum still thinks I'm a child! Mum, dad, and all of you!" She turned to Ron. "I'm a full-grown witch now, Ron. I can deal with things by myself."

"Aw, Gin, don't get mad. We were just teasing. And you know mum worries… I think it hasn't dawned on her yet that You-Know-Who really is gone…although it's been five years. It's not just you, you know. She nearly killed me when I joined the Service. Said I was signing up for a spot on the 'to-be-killed list.' "

Ginny laughed. "I suppose I _was_ too sensitive. And it _is _great to have you both here. But I thought you were spending your leave with the people from the service?"

"We were supposed to, but most of my close friends didn't get a leave. I've had enough of them at work anyway."

"Ron's still having a hard time being apart from his service _'friends,'_ though."

__

"Harry."

"It's true, Ron," Harry said. Right on cue, Ron's watch began to beep, and he immediately pressed one of its buttons and stared.

"I remember _that," _Ginny laughed. "Last Christmas when Ron came back to the Burrow, we hardly saw him because of that thing." 

She and Harry both looked at Ron, who was having a "conversation" with the watch. Anyone could have mistaken him for…well, someone who wasn't exactly mentally healthy.

Ginny suddenly gave a sharp exclamation. 

"There's something I completely forgot about! I have to go attend to it…" she said to Harry, as Ron obviously wasn't paying any attention to either of them. "Can we all meet up on the beach later? At around twelve o'clock? Maybe we can get something to eat. There's someone I'd like you to meet."

Ron looked up at her. Apparently he _had _been listening. "A boyfriend, Gin?"

"You'll see," Ginny snapped at him. He went back to his watch. "Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Could you please, _please _get him to leave that thing behind?"

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Hermione was in her bedroom, curled up on her bed, when Ginny knocked on her door.

"Hermione? Are you in there? It's Ginny."

For a moment she considered staying silent, letting Ginny think she wasn't there. There was no way she'd be able to explain why she was lying on her bed, crying her eyes out. There was no way she could explain it even to herself. Fact is, there _was _no logical explanation. She groaned and rolled over in bed.

"Herm? I know you're in there. Can I come in? Please?"

Hermione struggled up to a sitting position. "In a minute."

She walked over to the bathroom. In the big, seashell-framed mirror, she could see that she looked awful. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her hair was a mess. She tried washing her face, but it didn't work. She looked exactly the same, only wet. Shaking her head in resignation, she muttered a charm and her eyes were immediately clearer, but her hair would take longer to fix.

She left the bathroom to hear Ginny whisper _"Alohomora!" _and saw the doorknob slowly turn.

"You didn't have to do that, Gin. I was coming."

"Sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were all right. You took off pretty fast back there."

"I'm sorry. I suddenly felt rather ill. I came up to lie down. I think I've caught a bad cold…or maybe some allergy to these horrid tropical insects." To prove her point, she swatted at a mosquito which was flying around the room.

Ginny looked slightly disbelieving.

"Was that really Harry downstairs?" Hermione asked quickly.

"Surprisingly, yes. He and Ron are here."

Hermione didn't say anything for a moment. Her head was spinning. Ron, here? A lot of unexpected things had happened to her so far on this trip, but never for a moment did she expect this. She looked at Ginny and was surprised to see that she also had a faraway look on her face, seemingly deep in thought.

"Ginny?" she prodded. "Are you alright?"

Her friend seemed to snap out of it. "Sorry, Hermione, I just sort of spaced out there." She gave a shrill laugh, which seemed a tad forced. "I told them we can meet up for lunch later. Are you up to it?"

"You told them I was here?" Hermione's voice held a slight note of panic.

A slow smile came over Ginny's face. "Well, no… I thought it would be interesting if we surprised them. Don't you think so?"

Hermione shook her head. "Oh, Ginny, I don't know. I don't feel that well, and I don't know if I could handle seeing them again right now… after all it's been five years."

"All the more reason to see them again, isn't it? Oh, come _on _Hermione, please? Imagine their faces!"

Hermione weighed things out in her head. As much as she didn't want to face the past, she knew that soon she'd have to, if they were all here on this island together… And she had to admit she was dying to see Ron and Harry again…if only they didn't have to see her too. Besides, if there were a lot of people around, there'd be no time for her and her friends to seriously talk about everything that had happened, would there?

"Okay, Gin, I'll go."

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The beach in front of the resort was crowded with people of all nationalities in colorful swimwear as Hermione and Ginny made their way to the seaside. Parents anxiously watched their children running around on the sand and in the water, young couples, probably honeymooners, stood close together, oblivious to the noise around them, tourists in bright souvenir shirts snapped pictures of each other and of the scenery. The noonday sun was high in the sky, and the heat coming from it was scorching. 

Harry and Ron were standing slightly behind a plump woman vigorously spreading suntan lotion on the backs of her five, redheaded little boys: a Muggle version of the Weasleys.

"Harry," Ron said, looking at his arm. "I do believe I am getting _burnt.´_

Harry chuckled. "I should think so, Ron. That _was _what you wanted when you used the lotion, wasn't it?"

All Ron's life he had been frustrated with his extremely pale, freckled skin, which refused to tan no matter how long he stayed under the sun. This summer he had obtained a bottle of Ins-TAN-t Tanning Lotions For People Whose Skin Simply Don't Tan, a product which Fred and George, having the same problem, swore by. The problem was that the Weasley Twins owned a joke shop, and their friend who manufactured the lotion was probably in the magical prank business as well.

"I just hope it isn't one of the twins' jokes, Ron, and you begin sporting purple polka dots," Harry said. He himself had been the victim of the twins, many times, and on a couple of occasions he had found himself a bright shade of fuchsia for a week.

Ron looked slightly sick. "It might be. I feel strange."

Harry looked curiously at him. Without warning he began to scratch himself everywhere-arms, legs, chest, even his face. Harry looked on in alarm and amazement..

"Harry…itchy…" Ron managed to get out between gasps for breath.

"Bottle of Itch Relief in my room, Ron." Normally Ron would have stared at him incredulously and asked what in the world Harry was doing with Itch Relief in his suitcase; now he just turned and ran for the hotel, still scratching for all he was worth.

Harry stared after him awhile, not sure whether to laugh or be concerned. He decided on the former- Fred and George's antics were generally harmless, if embarrassing.

Meanwhile, a few sunbathers away, Hermione and Ginny scanned the crowd for Ron and Harry. After a while Hermione spotted a familiar head of black hair. "There's Harry," she said to Ginny.

To her surprise Ginny wasn't paying attention. Her eyes were focused on Harry, but her mind was obviously somewhere else. _Strange, _Hermione thought to herself. Then she realized that Ginny _had _been having these lapses several times a day. She wondered what was the matter with her friend.

"Ginny? Harry," she said, nudging Ginny gently.

"What? Oh, right. Harry!" Ginny said, calling to him across the heads of the sunbathers. He looked up and waved. Ginny began tugging Hermione towards him.

"Where's Ron?" she demanded as soon as they reached him.

Harry gave a small chuckle. "He went inside. He had…erm, a _vanity _issue."

Ginny looked at him in horror. "Vanity?" then really low, "It's that bad this time, isn't it?"

Harry nodded gravely. "Gin, you haven't introduced me to your friend." He was looking at Hermione, who was standing behind Ginny. She was suddenly studying the sand very intently.

"I was getting to that. Harry, meet… my friend," Ginny said with a grand gesture, pushing Hermione forward.

"How do you do?" Harry began to say, when his eyes widened behind his glasses and his jaw dropped in surprise as Hermione raised her head and gave him a small smile.

__

"Herm…ione!" he sputtered. He gaped at her for a few seconds. Then he was laughing. "What are you doing here?"

Then Hermione was laughing too. She gave Harry a hug, laughing the whole time. When she pulled away she was surprised that she had tears in her eyes. "Sorry about the shirt, Harry," she said, repeating almost exactly her last words to him five years ago. Then she explained how she had bumped into Ginny on the yacht.

"It's great to see you again, Harry," she concluded, a wide smile on her lips.

"It's great to see you too," he replied. "Wow, Ron is going to be so…" he trailed off suddenly, as if realising something. He didn't continue his sentence, and Hermione wanted to ask him what he had been about to say. _Ron would be so what?_ But her lips couldn't form the words.

"So how have you been doing, Harry?"

"Oh, alright, I guess. I've started a flying school, for kids training to be Quidditch players- or those who just want to learn how to fly well. Right now it's in Sirius' hands- and Charlie Weasley's helping out too. He's on break from dragon hunting, as he and Susie are going to have a baby… or maybe Ginny's already told you that?"

Ginny, in fact, hadn't told Hermione much about the Weasleys, so she and Harry updated her now.

"Perce married Penelope- _of course, _and now they have _three _children- a lot really, as they've only been married three years… George actually managed to get married, they're very happy, with gorgeous twin girls… Fred, poor him, he had a bad breakup with Angelina recently, but he's absorbed in his work at the joke shop, you know… it really took off the year after you left, Herm. Remember when they were struggling to get the money to open it in our sixth year? Mum was horribly upset… wanted them to work in the ministry… but she's proud now, isn't she Harry? Surprising how things turn out, don't you think?"

Hermione had half-listened to this speech. She was extremely interested in the Weasleys, of course, but it was hard to concentrate when half her brain was on Ron. Where was he? And how would he react when he saw her? She noticed that Harry and Ginny had stopped speaking, and were looking at her.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" Harry asked, concerned.

"Yes," she replied. "Sorry. I was just thinking… whatever happened with your dream of playing professional Quidditch, Harry?"

Harry reddened slightly. "Well…"

Ginny answered for him. "Oh, he played professional Quidditch, all right. For a few years back then he was the star of Wizarding World- seeker for the Chudley Cannons. Quite like when Voldemort was alive. There were Harry Potter fans everywhere. He won them three straight seasons, he did. Yes, that was what happened…" she trailed off, and Hermione saw the faraway look in her face again.

"So what happened, Harry?" she asked curiously. 

"Erm… I… stopped. I decided that there was something else I wanted to do. Things changed, my dreams changed…"

But Hermione saw the look in his eyes. She saw that his ultimate dream was still to play Quidditch professionally. The sport he was so good at, the sport he so loved. And, as he and Ginny had said, he had gotten his dream for a while. But why had he stopped? She began again to feel that strange sense of not belonging. Whatever the real reason was, Harry hadn't told her. Ginny knew it too, she was certain, but she hadn't told her either. Her friends were keeping secrets from her. They didn't trust her enough to tell her the truth about their lives…

__

It isn't that, she realized. It wasn't simply a matter of trust. She had not seen them for five years, and in those years they had grown apart. Their lives were so different now from what they had been five years ago- they had changed in so many ways, matured- and she had not been a part of that change. She wasn't a big part of their lives anymore… just as… just as they weren't big parts of theirs. And, although ever-present in her thoughts, they had dimmed somewhat in her memory, and the way she had preserved them there was different from the way she found them to be now. _Would you tell them your secrets? _No, she realized. She couldn't bear her heart to strangers. And that was what they were, that was what they had become, strangers. And as much as Hermione wanted things to go back to the way they were before, she knew that it wasn't just that easy.

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Yay!!! That was A CHAPTER!!! 

So… not a cliffhanger anymore, eh? Oh, and Ron and Hermione haven't seen each other yet, teehee. They weren't the 'old friends' who were reunited. Please don't kill me. Weeheehee… I think I'm overdoing the drama… heehee, but that's _me! _And it seems that both Ginny and Harry have secrets. I wonder what they are? Stay tuned for… da da da dann… the NEXT CHAPTER!!! And please leave your message at the beep. * **Beeeeeeep * **Review now, please! Please Please Please! * threatens to stop writing this if you don't review, but knows that won't happen anyway

Here's the stuff I wanted to say:

- This story will probably contain a bit of H/G. I apologise to Cesca, but actually, they _are _pretty okay together. This is still mostly R/Hr, though. I'm writing this H/G fic, though, which is the reason it took so long to update, which I'll post after this whole story is done.

I know things aren't moving as fast as they could be moving, and I promise that after this chapter things will actually happen. I might not be able to update as often, though, because my mum limited my computer usage, and I can't write as well or as fast in longhand. I _do _have the next chapter nearly done, and I'll post it soon. I also just got this other idea for this other R/Hr story… but it needs major working out. Just sharing. 

Okay. I originally had this pretty looooooooong thank-you thing here, but I decided to delete it because, well, it was too long. I've kept the file, though, and I had an individual message for each person who's reviewed me. (yeah, lots) So if you want my individual thank-you message to you (and I _do _have one, for both anonymous and signed reviewers) email me and I'll send it to you, I promise. I really will. This doesn't meet that I don't appreciate each of your comments anymore, it just means that, well, it was too long. But my thank-yous _were _here, so you may be sure that they _do _exist. I might still do this in other chapters. Please, please, please, I BEG you to review. Thanks, everyone who has, and if it's not too much to ask… pLEASE rEVIEW aGaIn!!! Thanks.

I still want to say this, though, to **Ruthalion Darkheart/Chill Seta/Cesca: **Yes, I have become one of those terrible people who like Harry/Ginny, or who at least think it's okay. Don't worry, this won't contain much of that…maybe. Feel free to massacre me as you promised. Maybe that will fulfill my wildest dreams anyway. Or maybe you don't really give a damn about me writing H/G because you've got your head on a certain blond someone… (one of your certain blond someones.) (Nix I removed yours, you've read it already anyway, haven't you?)


	5. Meeting Again

A/N: I think I've contracted some strange illness which makes it take so long for me to update. Sorry, I try to do something about it, but I can't seem to. =( At least it took me faster to come up with this part than with the last one. I got the least reviews for that, by the way, nineteen… but who am I to complain? It's hard to believe that people actually read this, much less like it. Thanks, y'all!  
Another thing, which I cannot believe I didn't write in the last chapter. The whole Ron-tanned thing? Thanks to FictionHobbit for calling attention to it. I had overlooked that fact, and as you might know I've (tried to) fix it. So there. That's it.  
One last thing is this. I know I've dragged it on so long, and I haven't gotten ANYWHERE with the story yet. Starting with this chapter I swear that things will begin to move faster. Sorry for the slowness of it. ^^

Chapter 5: Meeting Again

It was around two o'clock in the afternoon, and things in the hotel had reached a sort of lull. Most of the guests were either outside, at the beach or exploring the island, or inside their rooms taking what is wonderful to take on hot afternoons after dinner- naps.

Hermione had gone to her room after eating grilled seafood with Harry and Ginny at a seaside restaurant. The food had been delicious, and she had enjoyed talking with Harry; they had had a lot of catching up to do. After they ate Ginny had invited them to accompany her to a beautiful spot on the island with colorful sea life that she had heard about, presumably to take photos, but Hermione had begged off, saying that she was sleepy. Ginny and Harry had gone, but that was two hours ago, and Hermione had not been able to sleep a wink since then, alone with her thoughts.

She was tired of thinking, though, and she wanted something to get her mind off recent (and future) events. She wanted more than ever to have some books to index, some papers to write- her work always absorbed her completely- but as she had brought none she decided to wander around the hotel instead.

In the staircase she passed a rather glum-looking young man. She barely glanced at him and gave him the slightest nod. To her surprise she ran into no one else after that. The lobby was strangely deserted, and none of the staff were around, which Hermione felt was quite queer. She walked around to the back of the hotel where there was a garden. That, too, was empty, save for a young couple who were quite busy, half-hidden behind the trees.

With a sigh she headed back indoors. Seeing the young man and woman together had only made her feel more lonesome.

The same young man she had seen earlier was sitting in one of the chairs at the lobby. He seemed to be staring into a… watch? _Barking, _she thought, with a shake of her head. She was about to turn away when he raised his head. He had a cap pulled low over his forehead, but now that he was looking up she saw that he had bright red hair. Why, it was the exact same color as that of…

"Ron!" she found herself calling.

Startled, he looked straight at her, and as he recognised her his eyes bulged and his jaw dropped, in much the same way as Harry's had.

"Hermione!"

They both froze, staring at each other, then in the next moment, she didn't know how, he had covered the distance between them and she was in his arms.

She hugged him back fiercely, trying to drink in all of him, trying to make up for all the lost years. She felt tears come to her eyes. How could she not have realized how _right _this felt?

After a long moment they broke apart, and she looked up at his face. She had forgotten how tall he was! If it were possible he had grown even _taller _than he had been the last time she saw him.

He gave an embarrassed sort of laugh. "It's been awhile, hasn't it?" 

She was too busy staring at him to reply. He was tanned- that in itself was strange- but his skin was covered all over with tiny spots!

"Whatever has happened to your skin?" she asked, taking one of his hands and inspecting the dots. She touched his skin gently with her forefinger. "Do they hurt?"

  
Did she sense a slight tremor when she touched him?

  
He withdrew his hand from hers, took off his cap, and ran his hand through his hair.

"I had an unfortunate encounter with- erm- something of the twins'."

Hermione laughed. "They're still at it?"

"Yeah. Harry gave me some Itch Relief- at least they've stopped itching. Not very nice to look at, are they?"

Hermione smiled. How could she tell him that he would always be nice to look at to her, even if his hair fell out and he grew and extra head? That seeing him now was like drinking after a long, hot trek through the desert?

"Harry _did _say something about you being vain. I think I may be able to help you," she told him with a laugh.

"What could you possibly do?"

"You'll see. Just come with me." 

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Harry and Ginny had taken a boat to the other side of the island, where there were many colorful coral reefs teeming with marine life visible through the clear water, as well as some caves with interesting stalactite and stalagmite formations. This place was also devoid of tourists, which was surprising because it was so beautiful. Ginny had been clicking her camera nonstop since they arrived, and that was nearly two hours ago.

Harry was leaning against a large rock, staring out at the sea as Ginny took pictures of it. The afternoon sun shone down on the waves, making them sparkle, and several gulls flew low over them. He heard her sigh softly as she put her camera down.

"Brings back memories, doesn't it?" he asked quietly.

Ginny didn't reply. Her back was to him, and he saw her shoulders shake slightly as she nodded imperceptibly. A gentle wind whipped her red hair as she raised her camera and began taking pictures again. The two stood in silence for a while.

Finally she put her camera down and turned to him. Her smile held just the slightest hint of tears behind it.

"Ginny…" he said in a low voice.

She shook her head and sat down on the sand, setting her camera down carefully beside her. "I'm sorry, Harry. It's just that… three years, you know? I can't help remembering."

He nodded and sat down as well. "I know."

They both looked out at the sea, their minds on another time… another island just like this one…

Harry finally broke the silence. He seemed to think that a subject change was in order.

"So Hermione is here. Did you know?"

Ginny shook her head. "I bumped into her on the cruise. She hasn't been on a vacation in years. Not even to England, poor girl. Why do you think she never wrote?"

Harry didn't reply. He had a feeling he knew why. Glancing over at Ginny, he saw that she suspected the same thing.

"How do you think… Ron is going to take it?" he said slowly.

Ginny shook her head again, a troubled look in her eyes. "I don't know. Do you remember how he was when she… after she left? When she didn't write…"

"I think it hurt him that she wrote to me and not to him, but he never said a word about it. I think he thought that she didn't care much about him…"

"He thought she was embarrassed to write him because she didn't feel the same way about him, Harry. You _do _know how he felt about her, don't you?"

Harry gave her a look which said, _who doesn't?_

"And I think it was pretty obvious that she felt the same way. Except to him, that is."

Harry nodded, and took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. "I think the question is whether or not she still feels that way now. Because if she does, we could have a problem. I think he was hurt more deeply than he admits to himself."

Ginny stared at him. "You're strangely perceptive, for a guy. Oh dear… I wonder if they've seen each other yet?"

"Well, we _are _here, and both of them _are _back at the hotel, so we've no way of knowing…"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione led Ron to her room and sat him down on the bed. She opened a drawer and took out her wand, concealed beneath some (Muggle) books, and turned to him.

She suddenly felt awkward. Sitting on her bed, Ron looked like he was feeling the exact same way. After the spontaneous initial joy of their greeting, both seemed to realise that they were in the same room with a person who had been around so little- yet meant so much- over the past five years. In their later years at Hogwarts they had often found themselves strangely tongue-tied around each other, but never so much as they were now.

"Okay, so, er- sit still, then. This won't hurt," Hermione stammered.

He looked slightly nervous, but he didn't say anything.

Taking a deep breath, she pointed her wand at him and said slowly and clearly:

_"Clarify Epidermis!"_

Immediately gold sparkles shot out of the tip of her wand and surrounded him. They vanished in an instant, taking along with them the spots. Ron held his hands up to his face in wonder. "They even let me keep the tan!" he exclaimed. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

"Ron, every teenaged witch knows how to do that. I'm surprised _you _didn't, vain as you are."

He smiled, a sort of lopsided grin. "I may be vain, but I don't take it to the _magical _extreme. And somehow you didn't strike me as the type to be overly concerned about your appearance. Besides, you aren't a teenager anymore, though you were when I last saw you."

"Well, actually, I learned it more from hearing Parvati and Lavender perform it in the dormitory than from using it myself. But you'd be surprised. I've got many more appearance-altering tricks up my sleeve."

He snorted, then a strange, awkward silence descended on them. After a while Hermione spoke.

"So you became an Auror? That's always been your dream, I remember."

"Well, something like it. The Ministry is finally moving into the twenty-first century. But I must say, they were somewhat disappointed when I was the one who applied for training, and not Harry. After all, among the three of us, I showed the least Auror-like tendencies, didn't I? But since _you_ were definitely out of the question, and Harry felt saving the Wizarding World twice was enough, that left me. And I _did _help in the war, so they had to make do with me." He smiled grimly. "I don't think they regret it, though. I hope they don't. I know _I _don't."

Hermione nodded. She was remembering the war, almost six years ago. She had only been a seventh-year then, but both she and Ron had done their share in helping Harry and Dumbledore. In the end, though, it had been their best friend who ultimately had to face Voldemort. It had left him with another scar- this time on his chest- but he had come out of it alive… and Voldemort hadn't. Hermione had always felt guilty over not staying in England for the rebuilding of the Wizard World after it had been devastated by the war, but she had had her reasons. 

"Why didn't you write, Hermione?" Ron asked suddenly, cutting into her thoughts. She looked at him. His voice was sharp and his eyes serious. He went on, his voice growing more and more heated, his face beginning to turn red.

"It's alright that you didn't write to _me. _But when you stopped writing to Harry, too, we got worried! We nearly went mad wondering about you, not even knowing if you were okay. After all, you were the one who really wanted to keep in touch after graduation, weren't you? The Ministry had ways to keep track of Wizards- but dad didn't want to do it. He said that you must have had some important reason for your silence, that we should respect your privacy. Privacy! All it would have taken was a measly owl, but no! You had to let us worry! How could you do that, Hermione?"

Hermione stared at him, thunderstruck by this sudden outburst.

"Ron… I was…"

"How can you even attempt to explain it? What was your 'important reason?' I thought our friendship- yours, mine and Harry's- was important to you. It was to me and it certainly was to Harry! He had so much to worry about already without you added in!"

Hermione gawked at him. _Harry?_ He was upset that she had hurt _Harry?_

"Look, Ron, I'm sorry, alright? I should have written, and I didn't. That was my fault. But I saw Harry! He wasn't mad! And neither would you be if you would just listen to me!"

"Why should I listen to you when you've obviously had nothing to say for five years?"

The unfairness of that hit Hermione. "That's not true, Ron!"

"Why didn't you write, then?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you!"

He rose from the bed, almost shaking with rage. In addition to his tan, his face had grown very dark indeed. It was absurd, but through her anger Hermione found this familiar image strangely comforting.

"Fine. I guess we have nothing more to say to each other, then. I don't want your friendship anymore, as you so obviously haven't wanted mine. Oh, and thank you for the medical services. I'll be sure to send you a check."

With that he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Left alone, Hermione felt her anger wash away quickly, leaving her empty inside. In the span of an hour she had found and lost her best friend.

Her mind went back to a time, five years ago, when the Head Girl of Hogwarts had gone to the Headmaster's office to speak to Dumbledore and Mr. Weasley, who had just been appointed Deputy Minister of Magic in Fudge's stead.

_"What do you plan to do after you leave school, Miss Granger?"_

_"I don't quite know, Headmaster."_

_"Hermione, you know that you and your mother are always welcome to stay with us. Molly and I would love to have you live at the Burrow."_

_She had shaken her head._

_"Thank you Mr. Weasley, but I don't think I will stay in England anymore. My mother is going to live with her relatives in France and I might join her."_

_Dumbledore and Arthur Weasley had both looked at her with something akin to pity. Mr. Weasley spoke._

_"I am sorry for what happened, Hermione, truly I am. That was a sacrifice no one should have had to make- muggle or wizard."_

_She had nodded numbly. She didn't like being pitied. "Thank you. But my dad had always been a very honourable man, and I think he wanted to go the way he did; giving up himself for others- my mum and myself. Outwardly he was a dentist, but inside he had always been so much more._

After the tragedy of war, everyone had settled down and worked to restore life in the wizard- and muggle- world back to normal. The devastation was sizable and almost every witch or wizard had lost something- or someone- in its course. Many families lost one or more members- the Weasleys were lucky to have pulled through relatively unscathed.

Everyone who knew Hermione thought she would bounce back from the sorrow caused by her father's needless death and to avenge it give even more of herself than she normally would to ensure that the world would be safer for new generations of magical people. But somehow, the event had hit her more deeply than anyone- least of all herself- had realized. She subconsciously backed away from all that had once put her loved ones in danger, and all the places and people that were connected to the memories of the life she had had before her world had shattered. She placed herself away from everyone who could remind her, and possibly help her come to terms with her sorrow- and instead moved to Greece, where she thought that she could start anew without any part of her past coming back to haunt her. And for a while she had succeeded. She had buried all the feelings so deep that she almost forgotten they existed. But now that she had seen Ron and Harry- very important parts of a past she wanted to forget- all the memories and emotions, not only those she felt about their friendship but everything else as well, came flooding back.

Not for the first time she asked herself what would have happened if she had been an ordinary, nondescript witch who had been in the background, instead of near the center, of the events that had led to Voldemort's fall. Would that have saved her dad? Or what if she had never been accepted at Hogwarts at all- would she be living an ordinary muggle life now, perhaps working at a bank with a boyfriend and a dog instead of loneliness and a magical cat?

Or what if all that really had to happen, and she had learned to accept it and better herself for it? If she had stayed in England after the war to help the wizarding community- and in doing that rediscovered herself? Would things be different now? She had a strong feeling that they would. Everything would be different. She would be as close to her friends as she had ever been. She would probably have climbed the ranks of the ministry, instead of working at a library. _I would be on speaking terms with Ron, _she thought, then groaned.

"It always comes back to that, doesn't it?" she said aloud to herself, chuckling harshly at the hopelessness of it all.

She lay down on her bed and squeezed her eyes shut. No tears came now, she had probably spent them all in the previous days already. But she couldn't deny that she felt a great emptiness inside her. Emptiness which made her go numb all over, but which was… somehow familiar. It was the same emptiness that she had always felt before, whenever she and Ron had one of their periodic bouts of anger at each other, but magnified a thousand times. It hurt to feel this way, but somehow, in some strange way, it was reassuring. She felt like she was back where she had always belonged at last.

Yup, that's it for now. At least they've actually _met. _And I think it's the longest chapter so far. Please, please, please review! You don't know what a rush it is to get reviewed! (Or maybe you _do _know ^^) I'm sorry I always say that,  but I mean it! Please DO review! Thanks. Oh yes, and this is beginning to get quite soap opera-ish, so be warned. Btw, to Trunks Admirer… sorry if the previous chapter was somewhat disappointing… believe me, I'm disappointing myself with my writing as well! But thanks for still, you know, actually _reading _it, no matter how sucky it's starting to get. ^^


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